


I don't know if I see it ~or~  5 times Chris broke his glasses (and  the one time Zach did.)

by ineedthislikeaholeinthehead



Category: Pinto - Fandom, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Biphobia, Drunk Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Pinto de Mayo, couples quarreling but a lot of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6756781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedthislikeaholeinthehead/pseuds/ineedthislikeaholeinthehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A <a href="http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com/1873.html?thread=859985#t859985"><span>Pinto Kink Meme Fill.</span></a></p><p>Chris has a terrible habit of breaking or losing his glasses and Zach is fed up with it</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't know if I see it ~or~  5 times Chris broke his glasses (and  the one time Zach did.)

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wasn't going to be able to get something done for Pinto De Mayo, but I went over to the kink meme and found this wonderful prompt- I hope I do it justice, but regardless, I feel I have earned my margaritas. 
> 
> Happy Pinto De Mayo, everyone!

** I. **

“What are you doing?”  Zach asked.  

He felt like he’d been stuck in traffic all day.  And it wasn’t exactly untrue.  This whole bi-coastal living arrangement was a bitch, and Zach was starting to get annoyed with the fact that bi-coastal living meant he was actually expected to spend at least _some_ nights at Chris’ place in LA, and not just the other way around.  All he’d wanted to do when he got home was pour a glass of wine, sit down on the couch, and cuddle.  Well… _start_ by cuddling, at least.    
  
Instead, he walked into the kitchen and was greeted with a monstrous mess, a smoking stove top, and a very overwhelmed boyfriend wrapped in an ironic (hopefully) _Kiss the Cook_ apron.    
  
Scratch that, what he had was an overwhelmed boyfriend wrapped in a _Kiss the Cook_ apron, _without his glasses on_.

“Cooking dinner.”  Chris sheepishly answered.  

It wasn’t until that moment that Zach noticed the ancient and well loved copy of _The Joy of Cooking_ lying open on the counter.

“Looks like an ordeal.”  

“It’s marginally challenging.  Nothing I can’t handle.”  

“You’d be able to handle it a lot better if you could read the recipes.  Where are your glasses?”  

Just then, something on the stove needed Chris’ immediate attention and he turned around to attend to it.  

“Chris…”  Zach started out, already knowing where this was going.

“Zaaaach.”  Chris parroted back.

“Where are your glasses?”

“They’re in the mail.”  Chris said without turning back.  

“What are you talking about?”

“They had a disagreement with the bottom of my desk chair and needed to be repaired.  They’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe that might mean we should order in tonight?”

“I wanted to welcome you home properly.”  Chris said, and now he did turn around, and used those blind fucking eyes to make the perfect puppy dog face.  Zach sighed, this wasn't home, but he picked up the cook book anyways.

“Alright, tell me what we’re making.”  He said, and began reading the instructions out loud.

 

**II.**

 

They were zooming down PCH- no, they were zooming _up_ PCH- in search of greener pastures, or rather a bed in breakfast two hours away that Chris’ parents had _sworn_ made the best blueberry pancakes in the tri-county area.  Chris was having too much fun, driving too fast, singing along with the radio too loud.

He was _happy_ , and that made Zach uncomfortable, because he didn’t really believe someone should be that happy just to see him.  It was just a little weekend trip.  God Chris, find your chill.  

He pulled over to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” Zach asked as Chris walked out- not looking close enough at the oncoming traffic but miraculously not being plowed down.  

“It’s too nice a day.”  He started, and Zach knew exactly what he was doing.

“Chris, no.”  But he was already working the clips off the fucking vintage Porsche he’d rented for the occasion.  

“Zach, yes.  We’re going up the coast in a gorgeous car, you can’t fully appreciate that without the top down.”  Zach looked back at Chris and knew there was no way to convince Chris otherwise.  They’d take the top down for 15 minutes, he’d get too cold, and they’d put it back up.  It was easier to just go along with Chris' more trivial ideas than it was to fight him.

“Fine.  But you’re going to bleach your eyes in this sunlight, so at least get your sunglasses out of the back.”

Chris took down the top, and then opened the trunk.  But when he came back, put on his seat belt, and quickly started the car, he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.  

“Pretty sure I warned you about ocular protection, Christopher.”  Chris merged into oncoming traffic- too fast as usual.  

“Oh?”  He asked, as if he’d forgotten.

“Don’t even attempt to play coy,  I’ve known you too long to fall for that.  Where are your sunglasses?”  

“First off, I want to say, your bag was really big. And you knew we were taking a small car, so that's an important factor in this whole equation.”

“Seriously?”

“I just want you to keep that in mind…”

“What happened, Chris?”

“I don’t know _exactly_ , but I just checked my bag, and my sunglasses were marginally shattered.”

“Your $1000 prescription sunglasses?”

“Yes, those ones.  I’m guessing that our bags were too big for the trunk.  And in getting everything to fit-”

“You destroyed your sunglasses.”

“Er…”

“What else did you destroy?”

“They might have been too close to my regular glasses…”  Zach sighed.

“Lucky you’ve got contacts, I guess.”  

“Yeah...I can get sunglasses on the way.”  Zach looked at Chris, already squinting, and sighed again.  He pulled off his own sunglasses and handed them over.

 

**III.**

 

“Go long!”  

Zach wanted to relax.  It wasn’t always easy to find an hour’s rest, and it was especially hard to find a comfortable, private enough spot where people wouldn't walk up and bug you every 5 minutes in Central Park.  

He just wanted to lay on the blanket that Chris and he had put down, read his book, and take in mother nature before he was forced back into an office that only gave the illusion of being airy.

So of course the second they’d found a nice comfortable spot to relax, Chris had suddenly been bursting with so much energy he’d _had_ to get up and run around.   

Fine.  No cuddling in the park.  

Chris’s exuberance wasn’t contagious to Zach, but it _was_ sending the dogs into a frenzy. Since it wasn’t _his_ fault, Zach was ignoring it.  Let Chris deal with the happy, jumpy guys running around him.  

But the animal attention wasn’t enough. Chris needed _Zach_ to play with.  Zach had the same problem with Skunk from time to time.  When you knew what you wanted, nothing else would do.  

Zach put down his book just in time to catch the play football Chris had brought for the boys.  

“That wasn’t long.”  Zach told him.  

“You wanted me to throw it far and make you get up and get it?” Zach threw the ball back to him, he almost didn’t catch it.

“The dogs would get it.  Because it’s their toy...remember?”  Chris threw the ball at Zach again, and he could see Skunk and Noah salivating jealously over it.  Chris crouched down and pet Noah’s scruffy neck.  

“You like to share, don’t you?”  He asked the dog, who didn’t look interested in answering.  “Daddy taught you to share, didn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t never teach anyone to share.”  Zach said. Chris looked at him.

“I was talking about _me._ ”  He said.  Zach laughed.  It wasn’t the appropriate response.

“Didn’t know you were adopting my dogs, Pine.”  He said.

“Maybe I won’t.”  He said.  “Maybe I’ll just take full custody.”  

“Oh, really?”  Zach asked, he was squeezing the ball- even though Chris was joking, the thought of losing them terrified him.

“My house is bigger.”  

“You’re always so proud of that.  You know, Chris.  I think you’re a real estate size queen.”

“We can't all be as basic as you.” Chris replied.  

“Go long.”  Zach said, because he didn’t have anything else to say.  Chris hopped up and ran, too far.  Zach wasn’t sure he’d be able to throw that far while he was sitting down, but the dogs were at Chris’ feet, so he was sure _someone_ would catch the ball.   

He threw, and all three of them ran back to catch it.  In an extremely misguided move, Noah ran in front of Chris and grabbed the ball.  Which was wonderful, Zach was impressed.  Except, Chris toppled over, swiveling to one side to avoid landing on either of them, and landed hard on the grass.  

Zach was up immediately, rushing over to make sure Chris was OK.

“Oh my god- are you ok?” He asked, kneeling next to Chris- ignoring the fact that grass stains were a pain in the ass to get out of jeans and filing away the annoyance that he might just have to get rid of his current pair- and honestly just worrying about his boyfriend.  Chris laughed as Zach pulled him partially into his lap.

“You know I wouldn’t take your dogs, right Zach?”

“I don’t care about that right now, I just care if you’re ok.”

“I’m fine. I would only want full custody of them if I got full custody of you, too.”  Zach didn’t know what to say.  There were enough reasons to stay in New York that “I hate LA” wasn’t even in the top 5.  Well… maybe 5, but it wasn’t like he was staying purely because LA was so bland and sprawling and hot and fake.  

He was holding out hope that, if this thing worked, Chris would give in and come to New York- he’d said he liked New York, New York is better.  Everyone knew it.  

Zach shifted and his leg ended up behind Chris.  He felt something in Chris’ pocket.  

“What’s that?”  Zach asked- so happy to have an excuse to get out of this awkward conversation.

Chris sat up, and bit his lip.  Which was hot, but also annoying because Zach knew he did that right before telling him bad news.

 “You’re not going to like it.”  Chris said.  

 “What a surprise.”  Chris pulled out his glasses- cracked against the side... again.

 

IV.  


“Fuck you.”  Chris said, throwing cash down on the table and quickly walking away.  Zach rolled his eyes and took his precious time getting up to collect his absolute baby of a boyfriend.  Before he walked away, he downed the last half of Chris’ drink. Waste not, want not.

Chris was standing outside at the valet stand when Zach found him. He got this little extra pinkness on the back of his neck when he was angry, and it was so cute that Zach wanted to wrap his arms around Chris and kiss him there until his knees buckled and the only word he could remember was Zach’s name.

Even drunk, Zach knew better that to try it.  He’d have to annoy him appropriately later.

“You’re mad at me.”  Zach said.

“You’re damn right I’m mad.”

“Chris, you’re gonna have to get used to this.”  Chris was tired of Zach acting like the elder statesmen of being out, like his way was the only way to live openly. “It’s not exactly like we’ve been discreet lately. People know and you’re going to have to figure out a way to deal with that.”

“I can deal with people knowing, Zach.  I don’t give a damn about being out, and most of the time I don’t even care that they know about the fact that we're dating.”

“Ok, so what can’t you deal with?”

“I can’t deal with you sulking because I have the audacity to say hi to an ex girlfriend and then telling her that you converted me.”

“But I did.”  Chris had been trying to have this conversation for years.  But Zach couldn’t hear it.  

Chris didn’t know what Zach hated more- the fact that he was still attracted to women, or the fact that Zach wasn’t his first boyfriend.  Most of the time he could be respectful, but if he was in a bad mood or drunk, he’d just pretend that the whole issue didn’t exist and got pissy if some one dared to bring the truth into his little bubble.  

Chris sighed, and started walking back into the restaurant.  

“Where are you going?”  Zach asked. Chris didn’t want to tell him, but he looked into those copper eyes and couldn’t help himself.

“I forgot my glasses inside.” He told him, and Zach followed him back into the restaurant and they’re table.  

Chris didn’t see them, so he checked his chair, then Zach’s.  

“Find them?”  He asked.

“No… but I know they’ve got to be-”  Chris heard the crack first, and cringed, then looked under his foot.  “Here.”  He said, picking up the broken glasses.  He looked up at Zach who was shaking his head but smiling.

 

**V.**

 

“Turn on the light.”  Zach whispered as he smashed Chris against the wall.

“No.”  Chris started, his lips on Zach’s neck, preparing to open and bare his teeth.  “I want it like this.”

“I want to see you, Chris.”  Zach said, pressing his body against Chris’ and moving towards the light. “Also, I want us to be able to walk to the bedroom without killing ourselves.”  

In a move that would usually make at least one of them fall to the ground, Chris switched them, and shoved Zach against the wall.

“Why bother going to the bedroom?”  He asked, and then he kissed Zach and moved his hand up his leg and onto his belt.

Zach wasn’t one to complain- ok, yes he was.  

“What’s wrong with having the lights on for fun?”  Chris kissed away the question.

“I like surprising you.”  He said, Zach took the opportunity to surprise him, flipping Chris back onto the wall- not without a struggle-come-giggle fest.  

Chris was usually pretty playful in bed (or couch, or kitchen table) but he knew exactly why Zach was so frisky tonight. It was because he was leaving again tomorrow.  

Chris wasn’t an idiot, he had the same job.  He understood jetting off for a shoot, and he didn’t give a flying fuck when Zach did that.  Zach wasn’t going off to film something though, he was just going back “home.”  Because this wasn’t home for Zach.  His toothbrush next to Chris’ was just a back up.  His clothes in the closet and dresser were just rejects and forgotten items from visits past.  Chris wasn’t feeling the cold walls of their home on his back, just the cold walls of his.  

And he was supposed to be happy with that.  Zach needed to go “home.” Because the dogs were probably miserable even with a dog walker and a neighbor to love them- why couldn’t he have brought them out with him?  He wasn’t supposed to care that he didn’t know when Zach was coming back, or that every time he asked Zach to come out he’d remind Chris that it was “his turn" to come back to New York. Chris was supposed to be happy with just this- a couple of days here or there when they could play house, and get goofy before hopping back on a plane.  

He tried not to count how many years they'd been dancing around this more serious relationship.  He tried not to think of the difficult place he felt Zach was putting him in-limbo between a serious relationship and the friends with benefits they'd always been before. He finally found a way to maneuvered back on top of Zach, who resisted for a second, just for fun, just to feel the way Chris’ hands felt as they pressed down harder on his wrists.

Chris gave him a devilish smile (that Zach couldn’t see) and started kissing down his neck- between his shirt and his hair, Zach could barely feel Chris’ mouth on his stomach, but he enjoyed the attempt, the tantalizingly slow pace he was setting, Chris always had known how to perfectly tease.  

Chris’ hands were on Zach’s belt when Zach heard the crunch.

“What was that?”  He asked as he felt Chris readjusting his knees on the floor.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”  He said, quickly unzipping Zach’s fly.

“Pine…”

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”  Chris insisted.  And before Zach could formulate a zinger, Chris’ lips were on his dick, and Zach’s pithy comments ceased- at least for the next few moments.

The best thing about Chris’ blow jobs were how much pleasure he got from them- Zach had had more than one experience where simply getting him off had been enough to get Chris off, too. (Which was nice because Zach's track record for being a giving lover was a little spotty.)

He ran his fingers through Chris’ hair as Chris rolled his balls in his fingers.  Zach had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky, just that he most definitely was the luckiest man on the planet.  

And just when he thought he couldn’t get any luckier, he felt Chris’ throat loosen and take him in.  Zach held off as long as possible, and after he finished screaming Chris’ name, he immediately slunk to the floor.

Chris moved off him and leaned next to him on the wall, wiping his more chapped than usual lips before smiling.

Not that Zach could see it.  Zach couldn’t see anything.  He laughed for a second, then his hand brushed against a foreign object and he jumped back and right into Chris’ lap (not something he minded at all.)

“What happened?”  Chris asked.

“There’s something on the floor with us.”  Zach said.  He gingerly moved his hand towards the object and picked it up.

Plastic and two pieces of glass.  Zach looked at Chris, who looked superb this close up with just a sliver of moonlight illuminating his face- he finally got the lights off appeal.  

Chris shrugged, a coquettish smile on his face- like that would save him.

“God damn it, Chris.” Zach said.  Then he threw the glasses across the room and pulled Chris in for another kiss.

 

**I.**

 

“So, I’ve been thinking.”  Zach said.  He wasn’t super excited about this conversation.  There was some part of his brain that was sure if he didn’t talk about it, nothing would ever change.  They’d be fine, because they’d been fine.

But, Zach wasn’t stupid (most of the time.)  He could feel Chris pulling away, and he knew exactly why.  Zach didn’t have a problem with the long distance.  He liked his space, he liked his freedom, he liked New York.  

But he loved Chris.  And if Chris needed him in LA to be happy, then damn it, he was going to give him what he needed. 

“Yeah?”  Chris asked.  He was reading in bed- which looked somewhere between dorky and absolutely sexy and Zach couldn’t figure out exactly why.  There was nothing dorky about reading in bed, but Zach had somehow merged Chris' dorkiness with his sexiness, and so one always seemed to be following the other into his head. 

“I kinda think the dogs miss me.”  Chris stopped reading and took a deep breath.

“You haven’t even been gone three days.”  Chris said as he took off his glasses and put them on the bed.  “And you already promised you’d go to that party with me on Thursday.”

“I know I did.  I was thinking I could run back today…”

“Seriously Zach?  I feel like I haven’t even seen you.”  

Chris didn’t want to deal with this.  He wasn’t asking too much, and he knew it.  Zach always had to push limits, just to see what he could get away with.  Chris turned away as much as he could without falling off the side of the bed.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Zach said, crawling onto the other side of the bed and next to Chris.

“Go ahead, finish.”  Chris said.  Zach couldn’t see it, but he knew that Chris looked like a disappointed toddler.  

“I was thinking I could run back today, and bring them home tomorrow.”  Zach said.  Chris turned around.

“Home?”  Chris asked.  Zach, walking on his knees, moved closer.  He felt something on the bed, but the moment was just about ready to happen, so he wasn’t going to let it get ruined.

“I think you should have full custody of them.”  He said.  “And me...If you still want it.”  Zach didn’t have to wait for an answer, because Chris’ arms were around him lightning fast, pulling him down for a kiss that definitely contributed to global warming.  Zach would pay his carbon footprint tab later.  At that moment, he needed to be fully present to enjoy their first kiss as "roommates."

Of course, this was pretty good news from Chris’ perspective, so the kiss morphed pretty quickly into a good old fashioned grope.  When Zach laid down next to Chris for better positioning, he got poked in the back.

“Ow.”  Zach said, and rolled over.  Between him and Chris were a pair of broken reading glasses.  

Chris laughed, then looked up at him.

“God damn it, Zach.”  He said.  Zach took the glasses and tossed them off the bed- they were already fucked up- then pulled Chris in for a deep kiss.  Their second kiss as "roommates."

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is such a long name for such a tiny story. 
> 
> Like when you see royal babies, and you know their names are 3 paragraphs long, and you just think, "Damn, that's a lot to put on a kid." 
> 
> I'm concerned for Prince George and also my tiny Pinto story.


End file.
